Gathering Data
by Miri17
Summary: Lieutenant Fira Akane was born on Betazed with her telepathy already active. In order to prevent the insanity that often accompanies this disorder, she was raised on Vulcan and taught to discipline her mind. Years later, she's found the one being who's thoughts she can't hear-and decides to take a chance. Takes place after Star Trek: First Contact. Data/OC.
1. A Logical Proposal

The ship was made of thoughts.

Lieutenant Fira Akané had to channel her mind in order to see the bulkheads instead of the Captain's computer screen, to feel the floor instead of a lover's kiss, to hear the hall's quiet instead of a cacophony of words. Every mind on the _Enterprise_ was exposed. Vulnerable. Her Betazoid telepathy saw them like so many colored blocks.

Her Vulcan upbringing ordered them into compartments.

Fira finished her march down the corridor and the turbolift doors slid open. She jerked to a stop when she saw who it was.

"Commander Data."

His yellow eyes locked on hers instantly. She noticed the almost invisible line across his face where his new skin graft was still mending together after his encounter with the Borg. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

She stepped into the turbolift. The door hissed shut and she announced, "Engineering." She turned to Data. "I had anticipated meeting you later today. There is a personal matter I wish to discuss. Would you be available at 1900 hours?"

Data's head ticked slightly. "Yes. What is the nature of this matter?"

"Please meet me in Ten Forward at that time. I have a proposal for your review."

Data nodded. "Of course, Lieutenant." The turbolift doors opened, and they both stepped out into Engineering.

"I am starting my duty shift. What is your purpose there?"

Data pulled up. "Given our most recent encounter with the Borg, the Captain has asked that I assume additional tasks in analyzing areas for improvement of our offensive and defensive capabilities."

Fira's eyes narrowed. "Wouldn't Commander Worf be a more likely candidate to undertake such tasks?"

Data nodded. "The Captain has also assigned Worf to the same task, but he is currently occupied with the upcoming meeting with the Klingons."

"We're meeting with the Klingons?" Fira immediately chastised herself for sounding so surprised, but she could not rescind the comment.

"To the same end of improving our knowledge of the Borg," Data assured. "The Captain expressed that this issue cannot remain within the finite borders of Federation planning."

"Agreed," Fira said. She stepped away to check in with Geordi at the same time that Data did. Geordi glanced at her with his new bionic eyes, and his usual wave of attraction passed by her awareness, but his attention moved to Data.

"What can I do for you?"

"I am going to compile a report for Captain Picard regarding possible improvements for our Borg defense systems and overall system functions. I will not be in your way."

Geordi snorted. "Data, I wasn't worried about that."

Data tilted his head. "Despite my new capacity to experience worry myself, I still have difficulty detecting it in others. But no, I don't suppose you appear worried. I will progress with my task." He turned and moved to a nearby station.

Geordi smiled and shook his head, then turned to Fira. "Lieutenant, let's see…I could use you on Deck 16. The Borg installed something there that Benner and J'tal haven't been able to eradicate. After it's out, examine its function and make sure it didn't leave any additional programming in the computer."

"Aye sir."

Fira had been hard-pressed to find every bit of Borg programming the past three days since the invasion. As a devoted computer programmer, her mechanical skills weren't as impressive as some of the other engineers, but she could identify a single digit of code that was out of place. She'd found more than one of those since the crew's return to the 24th Century.

After a mentally grueling-yet-invigorating eight hours, Fira was released from duty. She returned to her quarters long enough only to clean herself up. She scrubbed her dark hands in the sink to rid herself of the lingering sensation of Borg nanoprobes in her skin. She squinted at her hair, which had come loose during her shift. She yanked at the black curls until they lay flat against her scalp, securing them in a relentless bun. Then she proceeded to Ten Forward.

The thoughts of the crew were often harder to tune out here, where people weren't focused on logical tasks but releasing their raw emotions. The chaos of a dozen conversations was easier to listen to than the telepathic jumble that she pushed into a corner. She sub-consciously recited the teachings of Surak to focus her thoughts.

Data was already sitting at a table by himself in the corner. She had hoped to arrive before him, but she supposed being even fifteen minutes early didn't matter with an android. She didn't bother with the niceties of getting drinks—didn't even glance at Guinan, whom she knew was watching more intensely than she let on. She strode directly to the table and sat down, her back to the majority of the crew.

"I am intrigued by your inquiry," Data said when she sat. "I have processed one hundred and thirty-nine potential reasons for your requesting this meeting, but I am unable to determine which is more likely than the others."

"I'm not surprised for your confusion," Fira said. "I have revealed no previous intentions of my current purpose. I would be curious, however, if any of your one hundred and thirty-nine options will turn out to be the case."

"Then please, proceed."

Fira took a deep breath. Her nerves fired, making her muscles feel week, but she didn't so much as twitch. "I understand, as do most of the crew, that one of your primary desires is to become more human."

Data's eyebrows twitched upward. "It is."

"I have a proposition to help in that endeavor. I wish to pursue a romantic relationship with you."

Data's eyebrows shot up. "I had, in fact, considered that possibility, although it was 78th on the list of possibilities." He smiled uncertainly. "I am pleased. Flattered. Excited. Surprised."

"Then you have, at least momentarily, entertained the prospect."

"Yes." His expression became more serious. "I must warn you, Lieutenant, that I have already attempted a romantic relationship with Lieutenant Jenna D'Sora. The experiment proved enlightening for me, but unrewarding for her."

Fira nodded. "I have gathered information on the occurrence from Lieutenant D'Sora. I believe the augmentation of your emotion chip will change the basis of our relationship, as will my personal experience. I have carefully considered the challenges that may arise in this particular relationship."

Data's eyebrows lifted. "Those are two important factors. Many of Jenna's concerns were rooted in my lack of emotion. She also expressed that her personal relationship history with 'unemotional men' was a root of consternation."

"I, on the other hand, look forward to challenging your development of emotions," Fira said. "If that would be acceptable to you."

Data considered. "I am willing to make the attempt, as I believe that romance is an aspect of my humanity that has yet to be explored to its fullest capacity. However, I must tell you that an openness of communication is paramount to the success of this endeavor."

"I will be explicit in my expectations and experiences," Fira said. "I don't expect you to know things through instinct, but look forward to explaining them to you. I have gained much understanding of the sentient mind through my years of study on Vulcan, and believe that I can share that knowledge with you."

"Interesting," Data said. "Many beings, of any race, expect others to understand unwritten rules of their cultural and behavioral establishments, and find it discomforting when an individual does not follow those rules, as you say, by instinct. It is intriguing, then, that you find my lack of experience to be a positive factor in this instance."

Fira nodded. "As you know, I have a unique background in understanding differing cultural mores."

"Indeed. I have read your profile, although I do not understand your unique situation fully."

"I don't know that anyone does. If we are to pursue this relationship, you will learn much about me, as I about you. In addition to my own explicit communication, I wish to understand your experience as well. When you encounter new emotions, particularly those that are unfamiliar or confusing, I encourage you to express those emotions to me so that I may guide your understanding and share in your experiences."

"That would be acceptable. There is still much for me to learn about having emotions. Although I have experienced over two-hundred and seventy distinct emotional states, it has only been for a short period of time in each instance. I still do not understand them entirely. Perhaps your willingness to guide me will aid in this experience."

"I hope so," she said. "I am uniquely qualified to express understanding of powerful emotions through logical means. I myself have worked hard to find a balance, and am eager to share this knowledge with someone who is experiencing something almost comparable."

"Comparable?" Data's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps I do not understand enough about your past to know how my situation could compare with another sentient's."

Fira's black eyes lowered to her hands, clasped in her lap, before returning to Data's. She could not sense his emotions, but his intrigue was clear.

"As you know, I was born on Betazed, but taken to Vulcan when I was three months old."

"Yes. Your telepathic abilities manifested themselves much earlier than is standard in Betazoid development."

"A condition, which you know, often leads to instability. My parents believed the best option for me to control the power was through strict mental training that the Vulcans were best able to provide."

"I reviewed thirty-nine cases similar to yours, in which telepathic abilities manifested before the first year, including Tam Elbrun's. All cases led to intensive psychological care, imprisonment, or death. You have been the exception to the rule."

"I know," Fira said, having studied the previous cases extensively on Vulcan. "My case was a breakthrough for Betazoid and Vulcan sciences alike."

Data cocked his head. "Are you proud of this?"

Fira smiled. "Yes. Without my Vulcan training, I would suffer greatly. I am privileged to lead my life."

"I feel much the same. I, too, am privileged to have encountered the circumstances that made me who I am."

Fira stared into his eyes for a moment, glad to share a sentiment with someone without feeling it beating against her own thoughts. "You should know, Data, that I have no previous experience in this area. Although I have done much research on the topic, I have been unable to engage in a romantic relationship before."

"Because of your unique abilities?"

"Yes. I realize that, while I am qualified to share this experience with you in some regards, I am unqualified in others. And, because of your new emotions, I am also aware that this relationship may not bring you pleasure in the future. If you reach the point where you no longer wish to pursue a romantic relationship with me, you need not worry about hurting my feelings. Explicit communication will be the most effective in this, and every, instance."

Data tilted his head. "You are not accustomed to needing explicit verbal communication."

"On the contrary, I have disciplined myself into depending on it. Without focus on spoken words, thoughts would overwhelm me."

Data's eyebrows scrunched together. "You said this relationship may not bring me pleasure in the future. What kind of pleasure do you mean?"

Fira's lips twitched. "You are learning, Data. I understand that, since this experience is so new to you, you still don't know what you want in a romantic partner. Although you are ideal to me, I may not be your ideal match."

Fira frowned and broke eye contact with him for the first time in several minutes. One of the reasons she was suggesting this in the first place was because of the emotions that drew her to Data. Unlike Vulcans, she could not turn off her emotions entirely. She was slowly adapting to allowing herself to feel them, after denying them for so long. "Data, among your new emotions, have you experienced sexual attraction?"

Data flinched with surprise. "I have, with the Borg Queen."

Fira's eyebrows shot up, but she chose to move on. "And since then? With other members of the crew?"

Data nodded. "Yes, although I did not entertain such emotions for longer than one second in each instance. I am still learning what that emotion's role will be in my existence."

Fira looked him straight in the eyes. "Do you find me attractive?"

Data's eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment. "You have an aesthetically pleasing figure." He paused. "Yes, I am aroused."

Fira laughed at that. "Well that's a relief."

"Yes, I suppose a lack of sexual arousal would 'put a damper' on our relationship."

Fira leaned back, glancing around Ten Forward to see if anyone had noticed the intimate nature of their discussion. A brief opening of her awareness didn't reveal any shock or disgust directed at them, so she shut that awareness away.

"Are you aroused by me?" Data asked, and the frankness of his question both unnerved and delighted her.

"Yes," she said. "But I believe this conversation has diverged into a nature to personal to be carried out in a public setting."

Data cocked his head. "Are you embarrassed? That is one emotion I have not yet experienced. Perhaps I do not have sufficient information on what causes embarrassment to experience it."

Fira held up her hand. "That's okay, I'm not embarrassed. Not really. Just aware of social norms and expectations in regard to these types of relationships." She smiled. "Would you like to learn about embarrassment?"

Data's eyes widened. "Yes. Although some emotions have come to me automatically, as by a 'primal instinct,' embarrassment seems to be an emotion brought about by cultural learning more than instinct. 'Nurture' over 'nature,' as it seems."

"Indeed. I am eager to begin this first lesson."

"Please, proceed."

Fira first explained what embarrassment felt like—usually accompanied by blood rushing to the face and away from the limbs, the desire to hide or run to escape notice, the shame and repetitive reflection over the mistake that was made. She then talked about various causes of embarrassment. A revelation of a personal inadequacy, either by others or by the individual. Saying something inappropriate for the context—a private revelation in front of uninvolved persons, particularly sexual or intimate commentary. A miscommunication that leads to a vastly different meaning than the one intended. She babbled for some ten minutes, dredging every corner of her memory for generalizations and societal rules from human culture. Data asked for personal examples, and she told him about the experiences at the Vulcan academy where she'd let emotions slip and been ostracized. The memories no longer hurt her so much, but she remembered how miserable she'd been at the time.

When she'd quite worn herself out on the subject of embarrassment, Data said, "One aspect of your proposal still puzzles me. You wish to help me become more human when you yourself are not human."

Fira smiled. "Perhaps that is why I am the most suited to the task. We can learn about what it means to be human together, and perhaps we'll learn more about who we are—as an android and a Vulcan Betazoid. We are unique individuals, exploring lives that have never been lived before."


	2. Data's Log, Stardate 504912

_Second Officer's Personal Log, Stardate 50491.2_

 _Lieutenant Fira Akané has just made an intriguing proposal. She has suggested that the two of us initiate a romantic relationship. I have accepted._

 _In my previous attempt at such a relationship with Lieutenant D'Sora, I first sought advice from my closest friends. Reviewing those memories, I have reached the conclusion that their advice would not have changed much over the last four years. They have often encouraged me to pursue my goal of becoming human._

 _With this knowledge, I was comfortable initiating a relationship with Fira, whom I believe to be a suitable companion. Although I have not evaluated her in this light previously, I believe she has many admirable qualities which may generate positive emotions from me. I have already experienced excitement, joy, arousal, and thirty-two other emotional states because of her._

 _I am most curious to understand how my emotion chip will influence the experience. I have formed all of my previous relationships without it, and I do not know if its influence will help or hinder the formation of this relationship. In the year since she has joined the crew, I have interacted with Lieutenant Akané on four-hundred and sixty-nine separate occasions, ranging from passing in the hall to working together on projects. In none of these interactions did I notice her to display common signs of human attraction: dilation of the pupils, skin coloration, change in body posture and gestures, or alterations in natural speech patterns. Perhaps her Betazoid genetics are responsible. Perhaps her Vulcan upbringing. I do not know her well, and look forward to the learning more about her as an individual._

 _We have decided to begin in a neutral location: the holodeck. She has designed a program for our first date tomorrow evening. She compared our work schedules for the next three weeks to offer times in which we may date. I am open to all of them. After three weeks—ten dates in all—we have agreed to evaluate the effectiveness of our relationship and proceed from there._

 _End Personal Log._


	3. An Austen-tatious First Date

Data arrived at the holodeck in costume. Fira was already prepared, wearing her Nineteenth Century Earth-English attire. She was surprised at her own visceral reaction to see him in Victorian breeches, shirt, tie, and jacket.

She asked something she never had to ask with anyone else: "How are you feeling?"

Data's face lifted. "I have been experiencing nervousness and anxiety since our discussion last night. I find that it is dissimilar from fear, but has many of the same physical symptoms. It is quite distracting. Thoughts of you and my own preparations for our endeavor enter my thoughts on a regular basis. The longest I went without thinking about it was thirty-three seconds, during which time a particular piece of Borg engineering occupied my attention."

Conscious of their agreement for explicit communication, she said, "I, too, have experienced a great deal of anticipation. I have looked forward to sharing this experience with you, but feel unprepared in my knowledge of the holoprogram."

"Even though you created it yourself?"

"Indeed. The story was recommended to me by one of my human compatriots, since I am striving to share human experiences with you."

Data considered this. "That is appreciated, although I would also be curious to experience programs stemming from your own Vulcan or Betazoid cultures."

"I'll consider that for the future," Fira said. "For now, Austen's England suits you well." She felt alien in so many ways in her own costume, which was tight and low across the bust but loosely fitted in the long purple skirt.

"I have experienced twenty-nine hours in holoprograms surrounding Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories, which take place during the late Victorian Era of the Nineteenth and early Twentieth centuries. Jane Austen's writings precede Doyle's by some sixty years, during the Regency Era. Many standards of decorum and behavior remained the same between the periods, although there are many minutiae which might be observed."

Fira held up her hand to stop him, although she was pleased to hear him ramble. "I would like to hear about every detail you find fascinating, but we've only an hour on the holodeck. May we discuss it as we run the program?"

"Of course," Data said.

"I give you one second to determine which of Austen's novels it's patterned after." Data's eyebrows raised, and she said, "Computer, begin program Fira 93."

Around them, the holodeck's empty metallic features disappeared. Instead they were surrounded by a warmly decorated ballroom, filled with dozens of holographic figures. In a moment, the figures began dancing. Data and Fira stood at the side of the ballroom, out of the dancers' way.

" _Pride and Prejudice,_ " Data announced. "The ball at Netherfield Park. An appropriate choice for a first date, as this novel and this scene in particular are widely studied as epitomes of the romantic genre."

"That's what Ensign Downey said. I asked some of the humans about their romantic literature in order to prepare. We are to play the roles of Elizabeth Bennett and Fitzwilliam Darcy."

At that moment, a robust blonde woman came up behind Fira, accompanied by a morose-looking young lady. The woman ogled Data. "Oh Mr. Darcy, I didn't realize you'd already had the pleasure of meeting my daughter. If she'd told me she was going to meet you, we would have had the whole family properly introduced." She smiled, but shot a glare at Fira.

Data said, "You must be Mrs. Bennett." He bowed stiffly. "Yes, your daughter was just telling me about your family."

"Was she?" Mrs. Bennett looked at Fira again, this time with more of a smile in her eyes. "All good things?"

"Indeed. I am aware of your other four daughters, Jane, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia."

"Oh excellent!" Mrs. Bennett exclaimed. "Oh they are the joy of my life, Mr. Darcy. A mother can only hope the best for her single daughters, can she not?"

Data nodded, then bowed to the girl besides Mrs. Bennett. "You are Miss Mary Bennett, are you not?"

"I am," she said, looking slightly pleased as she bowed. "Are you fond of music, Mr. Darcy?"

"I am. I play the violin, the clarinet, the piano, the trumpet-"

"Mr. Darcy," Fira interrupted. "Surely one man cannot be accomplished in so many instruments."

Data squinted, then raised his eyebrows. "When one has the time I do, musical mastery is but a trivial matter."

The room filled with applause as the current song ended, and Data and Fira joined in. "It seems a perfect night for a dance, does it not, Mr. Darcy?" Mrs. Bennett crooned. "There are many partners for a man as yourself to choose from. Elizabeth herself is an accomplished dancer."

Data turned to Fira. Her telepathy reached out for thought, but found nothing within the walls of the holodeck. It was simultaneously relieving and exasperating.

Data lifted his elbow as the clapping stopped and the dancers prepared for the next piece. "Miss Bennett, might I have the honor?"

Fira nodded and took his arm, moving through the crowd to the dance floor. They took their places at the end of two lines—one of men and one of women.

As soon as the orchestra struck up, Data bowed once more to Fira. She had watched several holos of Austen-period dancing, but had not had time to practice adequately. She glanced down the line of women as she curtsied to follow their movements. Data already had the movements memorized. He offered her his hand, and she took it as they began to spin in a small circle.

"I had to decide between competing motivations to dance with you," he said. "On the one hand, Mr. Darcy refused to dance with Elizabeth at this stage in the novel. However, our re-creation was not true to the scene, and I found the social pressure from Mrs. Bennett too much for my character to refuse."

"Your character?" Fira said as they changed directions. "Or you?"

Data pondered. "Both. If I were running this program alone, I would attempt to follow the plotline perfectly. But I am aware of its purpose as a date, and that must influence my actions."

She nodded. "That is wise of you." She turned her attention to the steps of the dance, which she found surprisingly challenging and soon caused her to breathe more heavily. She and Data fit in perfectly with the other dancers.

"Did you wish for me to continue my comparison to Doyle's England?" Data said. "You said you were interested, but I am unsure if that was out of a motivation of politeness or genuine curiosity."

Fira smiled. "By all means." As they danced, Data rambled about changes in the time periods—the advancement of technology, changes in customs, and social protocols. They danced three dances thus, with Fira barely having to say a word.

When they'd bowed out their third dance, Fira motioned that she wanted a break. Data, of course, wasn't affected by the dancing, but she moved through the crowd until she found a servant with punch for her to drink. When she glanced around, she saw Mrs. Bennett on the other side of the room, staring at her and Data with a gleeful smile as she talked to another bustling woman.

"We're being gossiped about," she said, and Data turned to see Mrs. Bennett.

He turned back to her. "May I ask you a personal question?"

She finished off the replicated drink and put the glass on a passing tray. "Of course."

"Do you find refuge here because the holograms do not have thoughts?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Yes, and with computers in general." At the mention of it, she felt the pressure of the very real _Enterprise_ crew pressing in on the edges of her mind, but reciting a few Vulcan proverbs helped regiment her thoughts.

"Is that why you wished to pursue a relationship with me? Because you cannot hear my thoughts?"

Fira turned to Data and looked into his yellow eyes. "This is a very important factor, yes. It is more challenging to be friends with someone whom I have to struggle to block out of my mind." She held up a hand. "But you have many more admirable qualities than your lack of telepathic presence, Data. Do not fear that."

Data surveyed the floor of dancing holograms, then raised his eyebrows. "It is most curious that you would apply the emotion of fear to my question. I have only experienced it in situations that threatened my well-being. Why would I experience distress if you had chosen me solely for my lack of telepathic presence? It would have been a logical enough reason."

Fira pursed her lips. She hadn't even meant to use the phrase—it certainly wasn't Vulcan, but it had slipped out after years serving with Starfleet. "I suppose most people wish to be desired for more than one trait. If I had solicited you because you had brown hair, and for no other reason, you might think that I would be equally attracted to everyone with brown hair. That leaves very little to set you apart as an individual. But if I were attracted to you because of a combination of your intelligence, devotion, work-ethic, curiosity, and verboseness, in addition to your physical appearance—that narrows it down to just you. Then you wouldn't need to _fear_ that my affections might be led elsewhere."

Before Data could react, they were interrupted by the appearance of a flush-faced young man. "Darcy! Am I to understand that you have not only danced, but engaged in conversation this evening?" He looked at Fira. "And with a woman, no less?"

Data glanced at me. "Mr. Bingley," he bowed. "You are not mistaken. May I present Miss Elizabeth Bennett." Fira watched as Mr. Bingley bowed, then remembered that she was supposed to curtsy in return.

"Miss Bennett," Bingley grinned. "I have just been dancing with your sister. She is lovely. Have you met her, Darcy?"

"I have not yet had the pleasure," Data admitted.

Fortuitously, Jane Bennett pushed her way through the crowd at that moment. "There you are, Mr. Bingley—I was detained by Miss Price." She looked at Fira, then her eyes locked on Data. "Mr. Bingley, is this your friend?"

Mr. Bingley stepped forward. "Mr. Darcy, Miss Jane Bennet." They bowed and curtsied accordingly. Mr. Bingley then began to fill the brief lull with small talk; how pleasant the evening's weather was, what a lovely dance hall, how nicely everyone had welcomed him to Longbourn. Even though she'd programmed him to do so, Fira found her mind wandering away from the conversation. For a moment, her ears muted the white noise of conversation and music around her, and her mind grazed the minds beyond the holodeck. The noise was much the same. It carried her elsewhere, like she was floating in an asteroid field with no orientation, but random shrapnel pelting at a thin suit.

"Fira?" Data's voice broke through the thoughts, and she was yanked back to the present.

"Fira?" Mr. Bingley asked. "What's that, a style of dance?"

Data frowned, torn between his obvious concern for Fira's laps and his social engagement. "Computer, freeze program." Immediately, the holodeck stilled and fell silent.

"No, it's all right," Fira said, mentally pinching herself for allowing her mind to wander.

"You appeared—" Data's eyes narrowed. "The last time you bore that expression was after the Borg attack."

Fira flinched. She thought she'd kept her face expressionless, that she underwent her mental struggles unseen. But she couldn't be surprised that he'd made the connection. The Borg…

"My apologies," Data said. "That appears to be a sensitive subject. Shall we continue with the program?"

"It's I who am sorry," Fira said. "I should guard my emotions more vigilantly."

Data raised his eyebrows. "I doubt any but myself would notice the two-millimeter elevation of your eyebrows, the infinitesimal muscle smasm in your right eye, or the slight tension in your jaw. You guard your emotions well, Fira."

Fira smiled slightly. "Thank you, Data. I had lost my focus on the present and was listening to the thoughts on the ship. Perhaps that expression you caught was one of telepathic awareness."

Data nodded. "That would explain the resemblance to the expression you wore in sick bay after the attack." His eyes narrowed. "Again, I'm insensitive. Computer, re-start—"

"Belay that," Fira said. "Does my face reveal so much?"

Data said. "I do not wish to displease you. That is not the purpose of this date."

Fira's brows furrowed in earnest. "You are curious about my experience with the Borg."

Data hesitated, then nodded. "I am."

"As I am curious about yours," Fira said. "Perhaps this is as good a time as any to discuss it."

Data glanced around at the frozen holographic figures. "You do not wish to continue the program?"

Fira hesitated. "Computer, play program."

The room whirled into motion once more. Bingley looked at Data quizzically, and she remembered he'd been confused by her name.

"Actually," Fira said, "It's an author who wrote a most intriguing article about the astronomy. I was telling Mr. Darcy about it earlier, and he wished to discuss it further. Would you excuse us?"

Mr. Bingley squinted at his friend, then laughed jovially. "If it keeps Darcy talking, you can do whatever you wish. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennett." Fira curtsied once more, then led Data through the crowd to the French doors that opened into the year garden.

Even though the environment was artificial, it was a relief to get out of the stuffy dance hall and into the cool autumn evening. Data followed her, still unsure of what she was doing, but she led him a short distance down a path and sat on a stone bench. He sat beside her.

"The Borg were a difficult presence for me to deal with." She launched into her story without reservation. She had found that direct communication alleviated many of her mental struggles, and she had yet to discuss the event with anyone but Deanna, who had guided her through her recovery. "I could sense the overwhelming will of the Collective, a consciousness more powerful than anything I could possibly compare it to. As soon as they came within a light year of us, I was mentally assimilated. I couldn't move. I couldn't hear the thoughts of the crew anymore. I was on duty at the time, and I wasn't even aware of falling to the floor. I learned that later from Commander LaForge."

"He told me as much," Data said. "And the Doctor said you went into a comatose-like state."

"Physically, yes," Fira said. "But in addition to the Collective consciousness, I also heard every Drone's individual thoughts, their sensory input, everything that the Queen sifts through, discards, unifies." The memory made her stiffen. "It…it was incredibly painful."

A new song struck up from the orchestra inside the hall, and the babbling voices washed over the garden. A breeze pricked the skin along Fira's arms. She wondered if Data felt it.

"How were you able to recover?" Data said. "You were in Sick Bay for seven hours, forty-two minutes after we re-entered the Twenty-fourth Century."

Fira turned to him, meeting his bright eyes. She felt the sudden urge to reach out and touch his smooth, pale skin. To see if she could find the seam along his face where the new dermal layer had been grafted on. She did not move.

"You were in Sick Bay, too," she said. "I sensed when you came in."

"How is that possible, when you have clearly expressed my lack of telepathic presence?"

"The same way a sensor detects a black hole," she said. "Energy is drawn toward it. I can sense you when the thoughts of others bend towards your absence." She held up a hand. "But that does not answer your original question. I recovered by meditation. I find it easiest to order my thoughts when I recite memorized verse from Vulcan chants, poetry, or lectures." She looked away, knowing that she was leaving out an important part of the truth. But she did not need him to know her so quickly.

"That is most intriguing. I will have to study Vulcan literature to learn about its meditative qualities."

"And now you," she said. "I have heard the crew's estimated compilation of your experience with the Borg, but I did not wish to disrespect you by delving further."

Data told her then about his experience. When he started, it was as if he was reciting his report. But then he slowed down, describing the emotions he'd felt after the Borg Queen activated his emotion chip. His fear. His pain. His lust. He skimmed over the details of what had happened, but she was still disconcerted by the experience. _He is still so new to emotions._

When he'd finished his story, they listened to the sound of the dance. "Mr. Bingley is probably wondering where I am," Data said.

"Perhaps he believes we're being indiscreet." Fira internally laughed at the thought. She stood. "We can ponder what has been said while we dance." She offered her hand, and they walked back into the ball at Netherfield.


	4. Data's Log, Stardate 504936

_Second Officer's Personal Log, Stardate 50493.6_

 _I had reservations about continuing my quest for humanity by entering a romantic relationship with a non-human, but I convinced myself that the parameters of the relationship would not be greatly altered by her race. However, now that I have experienced our first date, I believe Fira has as much to learn about humanity as I do._

 _F_ _ira seemed to enjoy the holodeck recreation of_ Pride and Prejudice _, but it was just as alien to her as it was to me. I was able to appreciate the lively atmosphere, and some of the humor from Mr. Bingley, but was not captured by a sense of romance. Fira, too, did not show particular signs of affection toward me. She danced well by the Regency Era standards, but I would not have called it "intimate." If a date is supposed to be romantic, to be conductive to or characterized by the expression of love, then I believe both of us failed in that regard. It might just has easily have been a social engagement between platonic friends._

 _In addition to her seemingly unromantic attitude toward the experience, I was disturbed by her brief lapse of what she called "telepathic awareness." She appeared absent from present events for approximately seven seconds. Although I find the telepathic ability interesting, it is not a human trait, and therefore one I have not studied in depth. I will review further material on the subject to understand Fira better during our trial period._

 _The most intriguing part of the evening was when we were not actively participating in the storyline of Austen's novel, but discussing our experiences with the recent Borg attack. In my own telling, I found myself experiencing muted versions of the emotions I had experienced at the time. I am growing accustomed to the violence of emotions in reaction to active stimuli, but it is strange to feel them a week after the situation has ended._

 _I also observed emotional tells in Fira's expressions, although much less pronounced than on the face of a human: sadness, fear, confusion, concern, disgust. I have analyzed each of these expressions in context to understand her reactions. She was pained by the experience with the Borg. She was concerned for my well-being, which I find comforting. She was disturbed by the attraction I felt for the Borg Queen. Given the context of the suffering the Borg caused to her personally and to many species as a whole, I understand her dislike of the Borg—but I do not understand why she would be disgusted by my attraction to the Queen. It did not affect her personally, and the Queen is now dead. Perhaps she believes my experience of sexual attraction reflects approval of the Borg as a whole. I have found that many humans associate sexuality with a complex array of other emotions, whereas I experienced it separately from my other feelings about the Borg. Perhaps she believes that since I found the Queen attractive, I am attracted to her "type," and therefore would find Fira less attractive. I have found this to be just the opposite. While I did experience attraction to the Queen "in the heat of the moment," I have found my attraction towards Fira to grow steadily as I spend more time with her and as I contemplate her more. I had not considered that I might have a "type." I do, however, find the way Fira's dark skin reflects lantern light to be most...intriguing. And when I saw her out of uniform for the first time, I admit to feeling a surge of desire. Perhaps I should draw on that emotion more directly in our next encounter so as to appear more romantic._

 _Given my observation of her this evening, I do not believe Fira is as unemotional as Vulcans. This is some relief, as my exploration of emotions is still one of my foremost concerns with becoming human. Perhaps she is simply uncomfortable displaying those emotions with me._

 _All considered, I felt the date to be a successful social engagement, but a failed romantic engagement. We agreed to have another date on the holodeck tomorrow evening, and I will arrange the next program. Since I explained to her the differences between Regency and Victorian England, I wish to show her the world of_ Sherlock Holmes. _I feel a strange desire for her to understand me better, for her to share in the emotional attachment I now feel toward Doyle's world. Although the fictional world is not widely regarded as romantic, perhaps connecting more personally as friends will lead to romantic attachment. I fully intend to put in my full effort for the trial period, even if the relationship ends after the three weeks. It would be most interesting to be in love._

 _End personal log._


	5. Kal Toh

The next night, Data and Fira once again dressed in costume and met at the holodeck. Fira felt far less comfortable in the corset and bustle required of the Victorian period, but decided to humor Data in honor of his love for Holmes. He played the role of Sherlock, and he modified the role of John Watson to Joan Watson so that she could portray the faithful sidekick. Although he'd perfected the program to produce a random story that he would be unfamiliar with, he frequently tensed and tightly sealed his lips as if he was suppressing a discovery. He urged her to guide the mystery-solving so that she could get a better holistic experience of the fictional world. She found the mystery to engage her logic in an enjoyable manner, and within their hour in the holodeck she solved the case. The intrigue of the story did not allow for much casual conversation, but she enjoyed working with him. In addition, the mystery distracted her from staring at him in his suit and imagining running her fingers over his double-breasted buttons.

Although she enjoyed the experience, when they stepped out of the holodeck, Data pulled her aside. "We have another date scheduled for tomorrow evening."

"Yes." Fira said. "Why, has something come up?"

"No, but might I suggest that we do not meet in the holodeck?"

Fira tilted her head. "I had prepared a new program, but we could run it at another time. Where did you have in mind?"

"My quarters," Data said. "Or yours, if you prefer. My research shows that a romantic relationship often begins by meeting in public or neutral locations, but that it develops by moving into a more personal space."

"Oh," Fira said. _He thinks I'm unromantic—and I have been. I'm letting my inexperience keep me in a place of familiarity and predictability._ "I understand the reason for your proposal. We may meet at my quarters at 1900 hours. Might I suggest that, although we are both more comfortable in our uniforms, we also dress appropriately for the more casual and familiar nature of the meeting?"

Data raised his eyebrows. "I have not had need of casual attire before, but I will replicate some."

"Good," Fira said. _I'm most curious to see what you come up with._

* * *

When her door chimed five minutes before the agreed time, she was wearing the only piece of clothing she'd ever worn of Betazed origins: a shimmering aqua dress with a low neckline that she'd hidden beneath a sheer navy scarf. Her hair was down, another thing she was unaccustomed to, which mean that it curled away from her face in thick waves.

When she opened the door, her eyes widened. She'd seen Data out of uniform only when he'd been in costume for their holoprograms. Now the clothes he wore were anything but a costume. He dressed in a loose-fitting blue shirt with a V-neckline that showed some of his pale chest. His pants were likewise loose and comfortable. More striking than his casual attire was his hair. She was sure someone else had done it for him because it was so perfectly un-stylized—like a man who had just gotten out of the shower and towel-dried his hair, leaving it clean but mussy.

"Data. Please, come in."

He stared at her for a moment, processing her different attire, before entering the room. He held out a single red rose. As the door slid shut, he said, "You look radiant this evening, Fira."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Radiant?" She took the rose, for a moment entranced by its simple beauty. "That's a more subjective adjective than I've heard you use before."

"It's what Commander Riker suggested I call you, and I thought it appropriate. Your dress, skin, and hair all 'shine or glow brightly' this evening."

Her shoulders relaxed. "That is admirable of you to say. If I may ask, did Commander Riker also help you with your casual attire?"

Data nodded. "He did. I have not had many reasons to wear anything but a uniform before—not since I joined Starfleet twenty-eight years ago." He leaned forward. "Is it true that a more unkempt appearance to hair is attractive?"

Fira smiled. "It generates a less formal reaction, yes, although I will admit to admiring your hair when it is precisely groomed as well." He raised his eyebrows, then turned to look at her quarters.

They were sparse in personalization, as she found too many loose objects distracting. She had a simple meditation corner, which she walked over to set the rose beside her unlit lamp. One of the few other objects in the room was on a nearby table: kal toh, a Vulcan mind game. It sat on a hexagonal wooden pedestal, and consisted of one hundred and twelve short metal rods, seemingly arranged at random to form a precariously balanced grouping.

"Ah," Data said. "I recognize this Vulcan game, although I have not played it before. Kal toh, is it not?"

"It is," Fira said. "I find it intellectually stimulating and mentally regulating. It is a piece of my Vulcan lifestyle that I believe you would find intriguing. Would you like to play?"

"I would," Data said, "but I am unfamiliar with the rules." Prepared for him to say just that, she handed him a padd with the complete rules. He read it in ten seconds. "I am now familiar with how to play, although there are many approaches to strategy. It sounds like an intriguing challenge."

They sat on either side of the table, Fira on the couch beneath the window and Data on the chair across. Fira offered Data the first move. She countered it, and he considered the play. After several moments, he looked up from the game. "May I recommend some music?"

Fira looked up, already so absorbed in the logic of the game that she had forgotten about the purpose of the evening. Again. "You may."

"Computer, play Tchaikovsky's 'Swan Lake.'"

Soft oboe tones filtered through the air, and Fira found that the music made her body feel at ease—like she was drifting in a gentle tide. "This is…" she paused as she listened, "most agreeable."

"Indeed." Data made his move. "I have found it to be a most complex composition to study, and have practiced pieces of it on both oboe and violin. It is challenging, but soothing." After she countered his move, he said, "Perhaps something to drink while we play? I don't know if you have eaten yet this evening, either."

Fira looked up. "Since you don't need food, I thought preparing a meal would be illogical." She raised her eyebrows. "Do you want something?"

Data's lips curled up in a slight smile, then he stood and walked over to the replicator. "Two glasses of champagne." The glasses appeared in the wall compartment, and Data removed them. He brought them over, hesitated one moment, then sat beside Fira on the couch before offering her a glass. Their thighs touched, and she instinctively shifted away to avoid the contact before taking the drink.

"Fira," Data said. "When you first proposed this relationship, I found that one of the appeals was exploring sexuality, now that I have the ability to experience it fully. Is there a reason you have avoided physical contact with me?"

Fira swallowed, all of her previous nerves swooping in on her in an instant. The structure playing kal toh had created was shaken. "You must understand, Data, that I am in an unusual predicament. There are few species more sensual than Betazoids, but there are few species less so than Vulcans. I am experiencing a great deal of conflict between the two instincts."

Data set his glass down next to the kal toh board. Fira set hers down as well, barely exhaling. Data offered his hand to her, and she stared at it for a moment before realizing that he wanted to hold hers. She licked her lips, then placed her hand in his. His skin was warm, unerringly smooth, and his grip spoke of suppressed strength. They each stared at the embrace, unmoving. Then Data adjusted the hold so that his fingers interlaced with hers.

"The pigmentation of our skin tones makes an interesting visual contrast," Data noted. "It would make for a striking painting."

Fira couldn't help but smile. "Of all the things for you to say about holding hands, I would not expect you to comment on the visual aesthetics." She found that his words, however, relaxed her somewhat. She shifted closer to him so that their forearms intertwined and rested on their touching legs. She took a sip of champagne, and sighed as the bubbles frothed over her tongue. She looked at the kal toh board, but no longer felt the desire to play. For a moment, they were quiet as the music of _Swan Lake_ drifted over them.

"I am nervous," Data said, startling Fira out of her meditation.

She turned to look up at him, and he tilted his head down at her. "I am too," she said. "Would you like to discuss it?"

His eyes shifted slightly, and she realized he was looking at her lips. She looked at his, and her throat tightened. She drifted forward without conscious intention, and he leaned in until his lips met hers.

Sensation blossomed within her until she no longer felt corporeal, expanding beyond the confines of her body as all of the barriers in her mind dissipated. She was touch, she was lust, she was adoration, she was a cascade of words.

She inhaled sharply and broke the kiss, realizing that with the flood of her own emotions she'd lowered the walls that kept out the thoughts of the crew. She turned away and closed her eyes, all her focus bent on blocking the deafening voices of a thousand people. She inwardly chanted in Vulcan until her mental blockade was restored.

"Have I done something wrong?" Data said. "Your body language is more difficult to read than humans, but I thought you were as aroused as I was. Forgive me if I misinterpreted."

"The error is with me," Fira said. They were still clasping hands, still touching along the whole left side of her body, and the awareness sent a new wave of warmth through her. "That—that was my first kiss. I was unprepared for the mental challenge it would provoke."

"Is there anything I can do to assist?"

"Kiss more logically?" She smiled, and he burst into a fit of obnoxiously loud laughter. The overdramatic display of joy caused her to laugh too, and it took them several moments to recover. "No, Data. It is something I will have to accustom myself to. You stimulate strong emotional reactions in me that are difficult to control."

Data's eyebrows shot up. "I do? But you display very little emotion."

"With great concentration, yes. Do not trust your eyes; there is a great deal I have learned to hide from the world."

Data caught her gaze. "Including affection for me?"

She stared into his eyes, and wanted nothing more than to kiss him again. "Especially that."


	6. Data's Log, Stardate 504961

_Second Officer's Personal Log, Stardate 50496.1_

 _If I had feared my relationship with Fira would be merely platonic, I do not have that fear any longer._

 _I thought I had experienced the sum of emotions related to both attraction and friendship. I am experiencing feelings that are difficult to put into words. I find myself asking questions about Fira that I do not have the answers to. Did she like the rose I gave her? Does she like flowers at all? What is her favorite color? Does she find beauty in the same things humans do, or Betazoids do, or Vulcans do? Who are her friends? Has she ever had romantic feelings for someone else before? Thus far, I have compiled a list of one hundred and ninety-three questions to which I do not have the answer. I am tempted to put them all on a padd and have her answer them one by one, but perhaps that would defeat the purpose of dating. I will be sure to ask her each question eventually. My instinct is to find every file in the_ Enterprise _database and learn everything there is to know about her, as I would with any other subject. But in this, the computer is lacking._

 _Although I had hoped to generate a more romantic mood this evening, I cannot say that I had anticipated kissing Fira. I was surprised she let me touch her at all, and I do not know what moved me to kiss her the way I did. It was spontaneous, unpremeditated. That actually made it more enjoyable, although I could not say why._

 _I have kissed three women before: Tasha, Jenna, and the Borg Queen. In the first two instances, I did not have emotions. I did not experience the touching of lips as differently than the shaking of hands. With the Queen, I experienced passion for the first time. The novelty of the emotion was all-consuming, and I reveled in the experience as I have with every other new emotion._

 _The kiss with Fira was different. I did not feel a rush of sexual passion, but a gentle tugging in my abdomen. The sensation of her lips on mine occupied most of my thoughts, which was a strange enough experience in itself to be so single-minded. She was soft. Hesitant. Yet I felt a moment where I was sure her desire matched my own as it grew inside me. I found myself imagining a progression of physical touch. When she pulled away, I was filled with an aching disappointment._

 _I was surprised to learn that was her first kiss. Although I understand her development has differed from most, I have come to understand that first sexual contact comes early on in the development of many species. However, she was raised on Vulcan, and they differ greatly from humans in this area. I am certain that her telepathic abilities have affected this area of her development as well. Ah, Question 194 on my list._

 _I have since found myself caught up in bouts of imagination that I have not previously encountered. I imagine kissing her again, and I picture a progression of physical touch that is most arousing. The thoughts have become so distracting that I have considered deactivating my emotion chip so I can focus on my research on the Borg. But the thought of turning off these feelings is abhorrent to me, and thus, I endure. Although they are distracting, the thoughts are most pleasant…_

 _End Personal Log._


	7. Indiscretion

Because of conflicting work schedules, Fira was unable to coordinate a date for the next night. She took the opportunity to focus with renewed vigor on her work with the _Enterprise_ computer. She finally located the last Borg code from the mainframe and transferred it to a distinct system in her quarters. Disconnected from remote access to the _Enterprise_ computer, she could analyze the code without endangering the vessel. She became so absorbed in following the patterns, trying to learn something about the Borg that she could report to Starfleet, that she forgot about Data for large spans of time.

When he did intrude upon her thoughts, a nebula of emotions pressed against her mental bulkheads. She frequently raised her shields and returned to work. But when her vision became so bleary from focusing, she finally leaned back in her chair and sighed.

After the kiss on the last date, it had taken considerable effort to return to comfortable conversation. Both her and Data usually spoke with directness, but the tension even affected Data's easy chatter. Eventually they fell into stride with a discussion on the sentience of holograms, but neither of them made another move towards romance.

 _I wanted this_ , she reminded herself. _I still do—so much, it hurts. But how can I form a romantic relationship when I am crippled by my own emotions?_

She thought about discussing the situation with Deanna. The _Enterprise_ counselor had shown Fira great interest since she'd joined the crew-something she new was founded in Deanna's past with Tam Elbrun. Fira had been assigned to weekly consultations to ensure her transition from the small Starfleet base orbiting Nenar II went smoothly. Through the year of counseling, Fira and Deanna had progressed from peers to friends. Even though their regular sessions had ended, Deanna had been the first person Fira had consulted when she wanted to pursue Data. Deanna was enthusiastic at the prospect, both for Fira and Data, and gave her full trust in Fira's ability to develop the relationship on her own.

Which was why she chose not to go to her now.

The chaos of her thoughts weakened her defenses against the thoughts of the crew, and she began to hear the undulating tide of their words. Just as she was about to focus on blocking them out, however, she decided to try to find Data. She closed her eyes and listened for his name.

 _Data makes it look so easy. It's not fair, him not needing sleep. If I didn't have to sleep, I could make Commander in no time too._

The thoughts came from an ensign on the conn. If she focused enough on the ensign's thoughts, she could see a foggy representation of the ensign's view. She looked from the control panel to the blurred stars on the view screen as they traveled at warp. She didn't know what had stirred the ensign's jealousy, but her thoughts had moved on.

Fira severed the connection with the ensign. _I shouldn't have done that_ , she thought, realizing that embedding herself too deeply into the woman's consciousness was a foolish thing to do. _I just wanted to see Data._

Her mouth watered as the memory of the kiss washed over her once more. _I want to be able to kiss him again without exposing my mind to the thoughts of the entire crew._ If she couldn't keep her mind in order while she touched him, she wouldn't be able to continue the relationship. _Or any relationship._

She powered down her computer system and moved to her mediation corner. She lit the lamp, and was about to tell the computer to play a Vulcan chant when she changed her mind. "Computer, play Tchaikovsky's _Swan Lake_." The music swelled around her as she knelt on a cushion and focused on the flame.

* * *

Fira had been sorely tempted to move their next date back onto the holodeck to establish some barriers. _It would be illogical to pursue a romantic relationship and avoid close personal interaction_ , she chided herself, and agreed to meet him at his quarters.

The door slid open ten minutes before their appointed date. Data was once again wearing casual attire, but his hair was slicked back as usual. She, on the other hand, wore a long red dress with a low neckline, and her hair was unbridled.

His eyes glanced over her, then he said, "Please, come in."

Music was already playing quietly in the background; although she didn't recognize it, she assumed it was another human composition. She was surprised to see that his quarters were adorned on many bulkheads by paintings. "I hadn't expected your quarters to be so artfully decorated," she said as the door hissed shut behind her.

"They did not used to be," he said, "but since the activation of my emotion chip, I have found empty bulkheads…boring." He shrugged. "In addition, displaying my own artwork stimulates a sense of pride."

"Justly so," she responded. "I'm no artist, but I can appreciate the way you've combined color and shape in the progression of your paintings. Would you like to tell me about them?"

He happily obliged. They stepped before each painting, and he explained his artistic intention and method. His words calmed her hammering heart and gave her mind something to focus on. When she found herself staring at his mouth while he spoke, or imagining running her hands down his chest, she jerked back to the paintings and analyzed them as she would a code.

Regardless, Data's passion delighted her. Vulcans appreciated beauty for its aesthetic wholeness, but Data spoke about emotions generated by colors and shapes. The swell of violins emphasized his words, and soon she felt completely at-ease.

When he'd finished talking about his final painting, he looked at her. "Forgive me—I have been speaking for the last seventeen minutes, forty-two seconds, while you have said little. I find this is often a sign of human boredom."

"No!" she objected. "On the contrary, I have become lost in your words. I find your ability to speak extensively on subjects without breathing to be fascinating and endearing."

He raised his eyebrows. "You like my rambling?"

She smiled. "I do."

He shrugged with his mouth. "You may be the first person to feel as such." He cocked his head. "Shall I continue? There are five-hundred and twenty-nine other artists on whom I could speak extensively."

She hesitated, and her heart hurled itself against her sternum. Before she could talk herself out of it, she slipped her hand into his. He looked down at their hands, then raised his eyebrows. "You are initiating physical touch."

"I am." She gently tugged him toward the couch, and her stomach tightened. They sat, and he looked at her with confusion.

"You appear as though there is something which you wish to express."

She clenched his hand. "I should have just come right out and said it before. I promised explicit communication, and I have not been forthright."

"This is about the kiss," he stated. "It was not to your liking? Although I am programmed in several techniques, I do not believe I have enough practice to kiss well."

Fira laughed in a burst of air, her nervousness overcoming her. "Data, you kiss _too_ well. And this is what I need to discuss." She couldn't look him in the eye, even though he was looking at her with as much concern as if she were injured. "When I first suggested we initiate a relationship, I admitted to my feelings of attraction toward you."

"Yes, and I toward you."

She exhaled, and realized she was staring at his chest. She reached out with her hand and placed it over where his heart would be. She whispered, "I may have understated how strong that attraction is." Her face drifted up, but her eyes stopped at his lips. "And I don't know how to discipline my mind against it."

Before she could stop it—before she could continue to put her thoughts into words as she had intended—her body arched upward and brought her lips to his. Her eyes closed and she sighed as heat exploded like a supernova in her abdomen. Her hands moved to his face and cradled his strong jaw. The artificial muscles flexed under her fingers as he kissed her back. When his body remained still, she slid her hands down his arms and guided them around her waist. Following her nonverbal instruction, he tightened his arms around her until they could get no closer sitting side-by-side.

Data broke a wire's-breadth away. "This position will cause neck strain. Here." His hand tucked under Fira's knees, and he scooped her onto his lap.

"How logical of you," she whispered. She pressed her lips against his once more, breathing in the faintly metallic scent of his body. Her hands slid into his hair and curled around the roots. He responded in kind, one hand furrowing rivulets against her scalp while the other wrapped around her lower back. "Good," she panted. "Now open your mouth slightly." He did, and she sucked him into deeper kisses, gently luring him into varying his patterns. She guided his hands over her back, gave him instructions on when to pull her closer to him or pull at her clothing. Her heart beat faster, thrumming throughout her entire body. With a word of encouragement from her, his lips drifted down to her jaw, to the place where her heart beat hardest, to the hollow of her collarbone-

"Counselor Troi to Lieutenant Akané."

Fira gasped as she pulled away from Data. She fumbled for her comm badge, stilling her breathing as she tapped it. "This is Akané."

"Please report to my quarters immediately."

Data's eyes lingered on her chest. His grip around her waist was relentless. "I do not wish to stop," he said.

Fira's head was a bright and intoxicating nebula. She reached out with her mind, concentrating entirely on the sound of Deanna's voice among the thousand others on the ship.

 _We need to talk,_ now.

Fira sighed and planted her hands on Data's chest. "My apologies," she whispered. "You're doing very well. Deanna says it's urgent. I'll return as quickly as possible."

He gently relinquished his hold on her waist, but he caught her hand as she pulled away. Although he restrained himself, she could feel the unrelenting metal structure of his fingers. A moment later, he released her.

Fira straightened out her dress, wondering if she should change into uniform. She tugged at the low neckline that had slipped down until it covered her cleavage. She tried to fasten back her hair, but remembered she'd intentionally left behind her hair tie.

She looked once more at Data, whose dazed expression had cleared and was almost back to its neutral standard. "Do you believe my appearance will warrant any unnecessary attention?" she asked.

He said, "I cannot answer that unbiased."

She sighed, and longed to grab his shirt for one more kiss, but straightened her shoulders and left.

She sped to Deanna's quarters on the next deck up, trying to regulate her breathing and her expression as she moved. When she arrived, the door slid open before she even rang. Deanna stood on the other side, her expression hard. Fira was surprised at the amount of emotion that roiled from her friend: anger, frustration, fear, worry…lust? _Why—_

"Come in," Deanna said curtly, and Fira entered before the door slid shut behind her.

"Deanna?" she asked. "I'm sensing—"

"Oh no," Deanna said. "Let's talk about what _I'm_ sensing, Fira." Fira flinched back, her Vulcan composure slowly returning to her after her emotional high. Deanna was in her nightgown, and she crossed her arms without bothering to offer Fira a seat. "Can you explain to me why I was just overwhelmed with the desire to have sex with Data?"

Fira's eyebrows shot up. Deanna's mind was like a physical presence in front of her, but she was blocking her superficial efforts to read her mind. "I can't imagine—"

"I can't believe you let your guard down!" Deanna exclaimed. "I've known you too long, Fira. You're relentless in your mental discipline. The most emotion I've ever felt from you was a slight alarm when we were under attack. When you told me you were entering a relationship with Data, I thought it would be a good experience for both of you. Little did I know it would be _that_ good."

Fira swallowed. "My emotions were so strong that you sensed them unintentionally?"

"Oh no, Fira," Deanna said. "You _projected_ them so loudly I had to practically tie myself down to keep from flinging myself at Data. It took me a minute to even realize it _was_ you, I was so shocked."

Horror called in the distance of Fira's mind, but her awareness of her own emotions was periphery now. Her composure had returned in full effect. "I apologize for my lack of discipline. The novelty of the experience betrayed my training."

Her eyes drifted off, and she allowed the flood of thoughts from the ship to overwhelm her. She filtered them, searching for any lust—particularly directed at Data—that might have originated from her own telepathic projection. Most of the species represented on the _Enterprise_ weren't telepathic, so they wouldn't be sensitive to such messages, but neither were they immune. She picked out almost thirty people who had been affected by her telepathic malfunction, but it was too late for her to remove the thoughts now. The humans who'd received the impressions might wave it off as a hormonal fluctuation, but the seven Betazoids and eleven Vulcans would have practically experienced her passionate kiss with her.

Fira had to actively fight down the embarrassment that brought blood to her cheeks. She recited a paragraph of Surak's teachings from memory, the rhythm of the words bringing order to her thoughts.

Deanna's voice cut through her routine. "Fira. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shouted." Her expression softened.

Fira nodded. "I understand your concern. It was justified. I suppose you're aware of the others my indiscretion affected?"

Deanna's own eyes drifted off as she switched to sensing with her mind. "Yes—I see." She looked back at Fira, compassion now creasing her brow. "I'm sorry for embarrassing you."

"Any embarrassment was only caused by my own lack of judgment and control," Fira said. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention." She nodded, and turned to leave.

Deanna's hand brushed Fira's arm, and she stopped just before the door would have slid open. Fira turned to look at one of the few people she considered a friend.

Deanna said, "You really do care for Data, don't you?"

Fira's chest contracted. "That no longer matters." She pulled away and strode through the door.


	8. The Trial

When she returned to Data's quarters, she had to stop in front of his door reinforce her emotional shields. She couldn't let a single feeling intrude upon what she had to do.

Data sat on the couch, holding Spot to his chest. His fingers curled around the cat's ears, as he looked at her. His hair was still mussed from when she'd curled her fingers through it. She pushed the image away as the door closed behind her.

"You look as aesthetically pleasing as ever," Data said, his voice lower than usual. A smile tugged at his lips, and he set Spot on the floor. The cat skittered into the bedroom.

"Data," she said firmly. "I have just had a discussion with Counselor Troi that permanently changes the terms of our agreement. I have been mentally compromised by our endeavors, and can no longer pursue a romantic relationship with you."

Data stood, his expression faltering. "What could the counselor have said to elicit such a reaction?"

Fira's spine ached with how stiffly she held her posture. "Our previous actions caused a serious lapse in my mental control." She hesitated before admitting the truth. "I telepathically shared my experiences with the minds of everyone on board the _Enterprise._ Most of the crew are not sensitive enough to have felt a disturbance, but several crewmembers received projections of my thoughts and feelings when we-" she waved her hand, "engaged in physical touch."

Data's brow furrowed. "You mentally projected the experience of kissing me?"

She nodded. "I did."

He frowned, looking away from her as if considering something. "I believe I am experiencing embarrassment. It is a most curious sensation. That moment was private, and projecting it into the public sphere, particularly with crewmembers who are unaware of the situation entirely, is a most unnerving thought."

"Then you understand why we must end our romantic relationship."

Data looked back at her. "To avoid embarrassment? I have experienced much less pleasant emotions. I find the rewards of this relationship to outweigh one relatively small emotional reaction."

She sighed, taking a step back. "It has been most enlightening, but I cannot endanger the well-being of this ship's crew."

Data's eyebrows scrunched together and his lip curled. "The well-being of the crew? Although I imagine some crewmembers may experience discomfort, I do not think your actions were harmful."

"Turn off your emotion chip, Data," Fira ordered. "Examine the situation logically."

Data flinched. "You have expressed a keen interest in my emotional development. I do not believe you would ordinarily ask me to do this. Why do you do so now?"

"Because it will be easier for both of us if you do."

Data shook his head. "I will not."

Fira pressed her hand to her forehead. "Fine. Leave it on. I'm just trying to spare you pain."

"I would do the same for you. This situation is clearly causing you pain. You may cease."

"No, I may not!" Fira screamed. Her emotions had never overpowered her so much. Every Vulcan routine she had spent years developing shook. She knew how to put them back, but nothing in her wanted to. She wanted to hurl herself at Data, to cry into his shoulder and to kiss him and let him comfort her.

But with her emotional instability came the voices. The entirety of the _Enterprise_ crew's thoughts bombarded her like a full spread of photon torpedoes. The sheer force made her legs crumple beneath her. She barely felt her body crash to the floor.

Her vision blurred, overlayed by the images of everything else the crew perceived. Flashes of faces, blurred colors of quarter decorations, passing bulkheads. The amount of information paralyzed her for several seconds, until her eyes were able to focus on Data's face above her.

"Fira," he said, as if from a distance. Then with greater clarity he slapped his comm badge and said, "Data to the Doctor, medical emergency in my quarters."

 _No,_ she thought, but she couldn't speak aloud. With a grunt, she started reciting a rhythmic chant. She stumbled over the words as the crews' thoughts ebbed, but she focused on Data's face to bring her back to the present. Within a few moments, her Vulcan composure had returned.

She sat upright, then slapped her comm badge, "Doctor, belay that last order from Commander Data."

Doctor Crusher's voice said, "Who is that? Is everyone all right?"

"This is Lieutenant Fira Akané," she said. "My telepathy caused a brief loss of equilibrium, but everything has been restored."

"Oh," she said. "You sure you don't need me to run a cortical scan?"

"I am certain," Fira said. "Akané out."

She stood, and Data rose with her. When she looked into his eyes, she could pretend she didn't feel a single emotion. "I am terminating the trial period. I do not wish to have any further discussion on the subject. Goodbye, Commander."


	9. Data's Log, Stardate 505128

_Second Officer's Personal Log, Stardate 50512.8_

 _It has been seven minutes, twenty seconds since Fira left my quarters. I have thought of little else._

 _I am unable to process the drastic change in her attitude from 20:09 to 20:17. I have re-run every detail of our encounters before and after she spoke to Counselor Troi. Although I am able to understand her concern for the lapse in her telepathic control, I am unable to understand why that would cause her to terminate the relationship altogether. My understanding is that she is a woman of distinct determination and perseverance, and I have seen that she is as devoted as I am to the pursuit of a successful romantic relationship. Her forwardness with physical touch before the incident is further proof of her interest in me. Why, then, would she completely abandon the rapport we have built in favor of returning to a platonic, working relationship?_

 _I still have three hundred and forty questions I wish to ask her. There are so many things I do not understand but wish to learn. I am unable to focus on my duties, as I keep replaying events and hoping to see something that I have not before. But that is impossible._

 _I am experiencing a most unpleasant emotional reaction to the encounter. It is a combination of sadness, frustration, anxiety, and pain. I am cataloguing this emotion as the two-hundredth and seventy-third distinct emotion I have experienced: heartbreak._

 _End Personal Log._


	10. Mind-Reading

Immediately after making his note in his personal log, Data changed into uniform. The casual clothing he'd worn for the date suddenly made him feel uncomfortable, although he could not define the trigger of the emotion. Once his uniform was in place, he felt more at ease. He combed back his hair.

 _Her fingers pressed against his scalp, triggering sensors 1127-1249..._

He stopped the memory and instead filled that part of his mind with the violin fingerings for the Vivaldi concerto he'd been practicing. _Fifth position, 2-3-1. Shift to third, 4-1-1..._

 _Her lips were moist, warm, her breath hot down his throat..._

 _Lust._

 _Fira has discontinued the relationship. I will not experience her kiss again._

 _Heartbreak._

 _First position, 1-4-3-3-2-0..._

He moved down the corridor, up the turbolift, and through the passage to Counselor Troi's quarters. He pressed the door chime and waited 3.2 seconds for her arrival.

Her expression was one of surprise: raised eyebrows, eyelids open, lips parted. "Data," she said, then composed her face. "What can I do for you?"

"I apologize for intruding upon your privacy," Data said. "If you prefer, I will wait for you to change into uniform and meet you in your office."

"Data," she chided. "We're friends—there's no need to wait on such formality. What's wrong?" She moved aside so he could enter the room, and the door closed behind him.

It took him two seconds to formulate his response, even though he had anticipated her question. "Fira has just terminated the trial period of our romantic relationship. I am experiencing emotional discomfort, and am uncertain as to how I should proceed."

Deanna sat in a chair and motioned for Data to take the seat opposite. "Did she explain her reasoning?"

Data nodded. "Her decision was based, from what I can tell, solely from the experience that occurred nineteen minutes and thirty-two seconds ago."

Deanna nodded. "I see."

"I do not understand how to proceed," Data said. "Should I honor her wishes and cease pursuing her in a romantic manner?"

"Is that what you want to do?"

 _Attraction. Curiosity. Fondness. Heartbreak._ He shook his head. "It is not."

Data observed the microscopic tic in Deanna's cheek that indicated she wanted to smile. "This has evolved from a mere experiment in human behavior, hasn't it?"

"It has," Data admitted. "My interest in Fira is no longer as intellectual as it is emotional, and—" he looked down, "physical."

"That's good, Data," Deanna said. "You really are learning about romance."

"Which would explain why it has caused me such pain for Fira to terminate the relationship. With previous encounters, I have been able to deactivate the appropriate programs and proceed with my established routines. Now, I do not seem to be able to deactivate the appropriate memories and emotions. Not without turning off my emotion chip, which I am unwilling to do. I have not been able to devote my attention to another subject for almost half an hour."

Deanna raised her eyebrows. "Half an hour. That must be difficult." He caught another microexpression of happiness.

He frowned, but decided not to inquire into her reaction. "Perhaps it would help if you could explain why her telepathy is so problematic. I understand the physical principles, but it seems to be a highly emotional experience as well."

The Counselor leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. "I think the most important thing for you to understand is that it is just like any other sense. Much like seeing and hearing, she can't activate or deactivate the ability like she's flipping a switch. It's always on. Focusing on other senses can, in a way, muffle the input. But she can't do anything to stop sensing others' minds."

"If that is the case," Data queried, "how is it that she projected her thoughts unintentionally? I understand how she might passively observe without meaning to, but projecting seems more active."

"Most telepaths wouldn't have done what she did," Deanna said. "As you said, it takes an act of will to project thoughts—just like speaking. But she's been so rigorously trained in certain techniques to keep her telepathy in the background that any break from routine might have an unexpected result."

Data paused to absorb this information. "I must learn as much as I can about this topic. Is there research on blocking telepathic abilities?"

Deanna hesitated before answering. "I'm not familiar with all of the research in the field, but I know that both of those topics have been explored extensively. Many cultures, the Romulans for example, are suspicious of telepaths and have looked into ways of blocking their abilities."

"I apologize; that is not what I meant. I meant blocking input _to_ the telepath. In essence, deafening them to the thoughts of others."

Deanna's eyes widened. "You want to know if Fira's abilities could be muted."

He nodded. "If they are the cause of such difficulty, would it not make more sense to terminate their use—even if only for short periods of time?"

Deanna took several moments to answer. "There have been methods explored of, essentially, turning off telepathy in Betazoids. Those, like Fira, who have had their abilities active since birth, have been a cause of much of this speculation. It is my understanding that it was an opportunity explored by her parents. Unfortunately, the only medically-sound methods require a permanent removal of that part of the brain, or the installation of a device that has other harmful side-effects. It is not something most Betazoids would opt to do."

"I see," Data said. "If that is the case, what can I do for Fira?"

Deanna sighed. "That's a complicated question. It seems clear to me that Fira wishes to experience the full range of a romantic relationship as much as you do, but those traits have been trained out of her by the Vulcans. Either she must choose to pursue a Vulcan relationship, or learn new ways of mediating her symptoms without shutting out emotions."

"Is that something she must do on her own?" Data asked. "Or would I be able to help?"

"That's what you need to find out."

* * *

The next day, Data found Fira working in Science Lab 2. She was alone, sitting at a computer console with her back turned to him. His eyes flickered for 0.019 seconds over her body. _Affection. Desire. Curiosity. Hope. Anxiety._

"F-" he began, almost inaudibly, before correcting himself. "Lieutenant Akané."

She turned, and not even a flicker of surprise registered on her face. "Yes, Commander?"

His eyes flicked to the display behind her. She had the internal sensor array controls open. Immediately, a list of probable activities appeared in his mind, but he still asked, "What are you working on?"

"Commander LaForge asked that I configure our sensors to detect Borg nanoprobes, per a recommendation in your report on the recent Borg attack." Her voice was strong, unaffected by any emotional alterations that he could detect.

Data cocked his head, recalling immediately his suggestion that the _Enterprise_ computer be altered for just that purpose. If the sensors could detect nanoprobes, and not only fully-developed Borg, a wide array of defensive capabilities opened up. It may even become possible for nanoprobes to be beamed out of humanoid bodies before they had a chance to infect the host.

He approached her, but she turned back to her work. He scanned the information on the screen, then turned his gaze to her. Fira's hair was pulled tightly back, smoothed down with some kind of gel that kept her curls pressed hard to her scalp.

 _Sensors 9416-10338 triggered sensations of the soft, silky texture of her hair along her fingertips. He mediated the safe amount of pressure he could apply as he pulled her torso against his..._

Fira looked up at him from her position at the console. "Did you need something, Commander?"

He replied without a hint of the thoughts that had been coursing through his mind, although a flicker of embarrassment registered in his emotion chip. "I have accepted your proposal to terminate the trial period of our relationship."

Fira exhaled deeply. "It was hardly a proposal. It was a statement of finality."

"It is only logical, then, for us to proceed with the romantic relationship in full. The trial is over. I wish to pursue you in earnest." _Anxiety. Hope._

Fira's lips parted in surprise, but she quickly sealed them. She stood from her station and faced him directly. "You know that was not my intent."

"I do," he said. "But without the constraint of a limited time frame, we would be free to progress in a more relaxed manner. I believe that both of us were 'rushing' the natural order of events in our dedication to experiencing a romantic relationship."

Fira opened her mouth to respond, but then the door to the lab opened and a science officer stepped in. He was a middle-aged Vulcan, and he glanced between the two of them with a neutral expression—but Data was certain he knew what the two of them were discussing. _Embarrassment._

"Commander," he nodded at Data, then turned to Fira. "I collected the sample from Doctor Crusher."

Fira nodded. "You may proceed, Lieutenant." The Vulcan carried a seemingly empty canister over to a compartment in the lab station, but Data assumed it contained one or more Borg nanoprobes.

Fira turned back to him. "I understand the nature of your proposition. We can discuss it further at the end of my duty shift. 1700 hours, Ten Forward."

 _Relief. Joy. Hope._


	11. An Intense Feeling of Deep Affection

Fira remained in uniform for her meeting with Data, and saw with relief that he had done the same. She needed the structure of professionalism.

As soon as the doors to Ten Forward slid open, Data stood from his table at the back wall. She motioned for him to sit back down as she crossed the crowded room. He did so stiffly, then gestured at the two drinks on the table.

"I thought you might like something after work," he said as she took her seat. His facial expression betrayed his nerves. "It's non-alcoholic, with fifteen vitamins and minerals especially for improving cognitive function."

She eyed the bright blue concoction, then took a cautious sip. It was pleasantly fruity, and she appreciated the moisture after having been stuck in that lab for hours.

"Do we need to bother with small talk?" she asked.

Data shook his head. "I am most eager to proceed to the subject at hand."

"Good," she sighed, taking another sip of the drink. "I realize that my behavior last night was emotional and rash. It was not only illogical, but inappropriate, and for that I apologize."

"Apology accepted."

She looked him in the eyes, and her back stiffened as she shoved aside her emotions. "The problem is not with this relationship in particular, but with relationships in general. Unless I can learn to keep my telepathy under control, I cannot pursue an intentionally emotional relationship with any individual."

"Would you prefer to court in the style of the Vulcans?" Data said. "Although they do not experience passionate emotions in their relationships, I understand they still form very strong attachments to their mates."

Fira was surprised to hear the suggestion, although she did not show it on her face. She had seen many of these relationships firsthand and understood the deep connections between married Vulcans. However, appreciating the strength of such a relationship and desiring one herself were to disparate concepts. The concept daunted her.

"If I were to deactivate my emotion chip," Data continued, "I would easily be able to imitate such a relationship."

She flinched back. "That is illogical," she objected. "Your goal has always been to become human, not Vulcan." In a softer tone, she said, "That would be completely unfair to you. You love your emotions. In fact, I'm sure they're the only reason you're so pursuing me now."

"It would be more unfair for you to be deprived of a romantic experience," Data said. "I believe you would enrich my life with or without emotions."

"Why?" Fira said, and she couldn't suppress the wave of emotion that hit her then. "Why are you so interested in me? There are a great many women on this ship who would value the chance to pursue a relationship with you." _Too many, if you ask me_ , she thought to herself.

"I am not interested in anyone else. I find it difficult to imagine another sentient being more compatible with me than you."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You believe a non-human can suit your goals to become human?"

"Many humans marry non-humans," he countered.

"How many?" she said. "What is the ratio of marriages between two humans and between humans and another species?"

Data's eyebrows pushed together. "I am uncertain, although my own observation has noted a vastly disparate ratio. By my observation alone, I'd estimate one thousand to one."

She nodded. "I hypothesized as much. You could find a human."

Data shook his head. "Why should I, when you possess all of the traits I admire?"

"Really?" Fira said, and she flushed with the flattery and with a wave of embarrassment that overcame her. "You admire my capacity to completely lose self-control and become incapacitated by telepathic input?"

"I admire your perseverance against such overwhelming circumstances," Data said. He hesitated, then placed his hand on the table, inviting her to take his hand. She did not, but he remained in that position. "Your intellect provides stimulating conversation and unique insight. You are an active listener. You take great care and dedication into every project you pursue. Your work-ethic is relentless. You are an exemplary officer. You are devoted to helping me pursue my own goals and 'fan the flames' of my own passion. If you would like me to continue, I have composed a list of one-hundred and thirty primary characteristics which I admire in you, although I stopped because I thought that was sufficient to convince you."

"That is more than sufficient," she said, and she glanced away before reminding herself to keep eye-contact. "We've only been on four dates. You have no certainty that I am worth pursuing in the long term."

"We have spent a total of two hundred and forty-nine hours, twenty-three minutes together," Data said, and her eyebrows shot up at the high number. "I can usually summarize the primary components of an individual's personality within one hour, although I continue to learn more every second. I have had more than sufficient time to assess your compatibility with me." He leaned forward. "But there is still so much I wish to discover about you."

She leaned forward on her elbows, clasping her hands on the tabletop even as her eyes glanced to the hand Data kept open for her to take. "What about the long-term? My life will end long before yours. It's true that I am invested in your emotional development, Data. I do not wish for you to fall in love only to out-live me by centuries." She looked down at her interlaced fingers, which were pressing into the tendons in her hands. "It is something I was selfish not to consider before proposing the relationship in the first place."

Data's gaze was unrelenting. "When I decided to activate my emotion chip, I accepted the risk of experiencing negative emotions as well. I understood from the start that a romantic bond could lead to extreme pain in the future, yet I accepted your proposal. You must respect my right to choose such a fate, as any other sentient being would."

"I know about Lal," Fira blurted, and Data flinched back. "Might you, in the future, pursue the creation of another android?"

His eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. "I am most curious to continue my study, although I have found that since the activation of my emotion chip, the memory of Lal causes me pain. She failed because she began to experience emotions. She told me she loved me." He put his hand on his chest. "I ache with her loss. I still have her memories stored within my own positronic matrix. She was beautiful, Fira. I wish you had met her. She is stored at the Daystrom Institute on Galor IV. Perhaps you could see her someday."

Fira smiled. "I would like that."

Data cocked his head. "But you were not trying to start a discussion on the science of android construction. Did you mean for me to create another android as a partner?"

"It is a possibility you must consider."

Data looked down at the table, and his face twitched. "I find that prospect, for some reason, disturbing. Perhaps it is because of my previous association with Lal as my child, and the thought of incest causes an emotional reaction of disgust." He looked at Fira. "There is another factor. One aspect of a romantic relationship that I have found most intriguing is the unpredictability of the partner. If I were to create an android with the express purpose of romance, that element would be lacking. On the other hand, if the android were free to develop as his or her own individual, there is no guarantee she would be a suitable romantic partner."

Fira raised her eyebrows. "That's true. Alternatively, if the science advanced enough in the near future and positronic brains could be more easily recreated, androids could become a species of their own. I understand Commander Bruce Maddox has made many advances in the field since his attempt to disassemble you for study eight years ago."

"He has," Data admitted, "but none that would suggest such an expansion of my kind in the near future. I have considered every possibility to counter the malfunction that caused Lal's deactivation, but have yet to come up with a solution."

Their conversation lulled, and the sound of dozens of voices filled the space between them. Among them, the thoughts of the crew pressed at Fira's consciousness, but she turned her attention back to her clasped hands.

To her surprise, Data pulled out a Padd from his uniform. "As a part of my proposal, I have drafted a training regimen." He extended the Padd to her, and she hesitated a moment before taking it.

"A training regimen? For a romantic relationship?"

"Yes. It is clear that you must become acclimated to the experience of romantic feelings and the processing of physical sensations."

Fira scanned the Padd.

 _Date 1: Discuss questions 1-9._

 _Date 2: Holoprogram Data Forty-one._

 _Date 3: Discuss questions 10-19._

 _Date 4: Holoprogram of Fira's choosing._

 _Date 5: Discuss questions 20-19. Introduce hand-holding._

The list went on for seventy dates. "This…is quite thorough," Fira said. "What are these questions you list?"

"I have created a list of three hundred and ninety questions which I wish to ask you. They will provide suitable topics for extensive discussion."

She stared at the Padd. "I see we wouldn't introduce kissing until Date 35."

"If that is too soon, this schedule is certainly open to alterations," he blurted. "I have conducted research on Betazoid telepathy, therapeutic techniques, and Vulcan mental disciplines. There are many processes we could explore for re-programming your mind to accept these new inputs." He frowned. "Forgive me, I am speaking as if you were a computer. That was unintentionally rude."

"It is forgiven," Fira said, still staring at the Padd. Toward the end of the list, he had detailed some physical practices beyond kissing, and blood was rising to her cheeks at the thought. She finally looked up and back into his eyes.

"Your blood flow has altered," he said. "Are you embarrassed?" He glanced at the Padd. "Ah. Perhaps the object of Date 67 will need to be postponed." He looked back up. "Or removed, if preferable."

Gratitude and admiration swelled in Fira's chest. "I am having trouble," she began, and her throat closed, "believing that you would invest such effort into ensuring my ability to proceed with the relationship. I hardly think it logical to put yourself through such difficulty for my comfort."

"My research has shown that love is rarely logical."

Fira's back stiffened. "Love," she repeated.

He nodded, then recited, "'An intense feeling of deep affection. A deep romantic or sexual attachment to someone. Fondness, tenderness, intimacy, endearment.' I believe I still have more to learn and experience of the feeling, but it is the most suitable word for the combination of emotions I have experienced these last days."

Fira's stomach clenched. A world of emotion pressed against her mental barriers. Data's hand still lay on the table. She reached out and pressed her hand into his.

"That definition would categorize my emotions as well," she whispered, so only Data could hear. She exhaled the words, "I love you too."

A smile quirked up the corner of Data's mouth. "Then you are willing to proceed with my proposal?"

She smiled as fondness, affection, endearment— _love_ —swelled in her chest. "Yes."


	12. Data's Logs, 505147-505492

_Select passages of Second Officer's Personal Log, Stardates 50514.7 through 50549.2._

 _Date 1: My date with Fira progressed as expected. We remained in Ten Forward, as it is an impersonal meeting place, and discussed my first ten questions. In the progress of the conversation, we also covered questions 94, 120, and 231. Our conversation focused on realms of our past experiences, and not on our current relationship, since we have agreed that "getting to know each other" is an appropriate first step. Although I still experienced lust, I found my curiosity to learn more about Fira dominate the experience. I believe that my affection increased in proportion to the knowledge I gained, although I could not say why. Her anecdotes revealed examples of her character in action, emphasizing my admiration of those characteristics. In addition, she insisted that I answer my own questions as thoroughly as she did, and I found myself explaining past experiences differently with her than I would with others..._

 _Date 5: In an effort to gradually introduce physical touch, Fira and I held hands for one hour and twenty-three minutes (excluding brief reprises when two hands were necessary for a task, or Fira felt the need to remove the perspiration from her palm). We discussed the physical and emotional sensations associated with the touch, and found that both of us were both excited and relaxed by it—a strange combination of reactions. When I asked Fira about her reactions, her temperature rose and she admitted that her emotions were becoming harder to control. We mediated the effect by returning to our intellectual conversations, answering thirteen more of my questions, and the dialogue seemed to distract her from her emotional discomfort. I, however, indulged every emotion generated by my chip..._

 _Date 8: Fira chose a holoprogram for our date this evening. I experienced surprise when she asked that I wear Betazoid costume appropriate for a social gathering, and she sent me the replicator schematic for appropriate attire. She arrived wearing clothing of a similar style—a purple dress that revealed the glint of the ship's lighting on her collarbone and arms when I met her outside the holodeck. I was surprised because, although I had scheduled her to choose that evening's holoprogram for another shared experience, I did not expect her to choose something so personal._

 _At the holographic party, we introduced ourselves to the holograms as a couple. I believe she chose this experience so she could encounter the emotions she might experience in a social setting, and not merely by ourselves. My first reaction was pride; I was_ proud _not only to have a date to the event, but that Fira was my partner. When I asked her how she felt, she said she was proud as well-but also embarrassed. Confused by this apparent contradiction in emotions, she explained that announcing her relationship with me made her vulnerable: she was revealing a deep emotional attachment that she felt guilty for experiencing. I am still contemplating this convoluted mixture of emotions. It makes me appreciate her complexity as an individual, and her bravery for facing such obstacles in order to be with me. Ah-there's love again._

 _Then we danced. Betazoid dancing does not have the same structure as the partner work from her_ Pride and Prejudice _program. It involves close physical contact and languid movement. I had not known to prepare myself for the experience by learning Betazoid dance styles, so Fira had to guide me through the steps. It was very intimate—much more so than I had anticipated encountering for another five dates at least..._

 _Stardate 50542.8 [in between dates 11 and 12]: Fira surprised me this afternoon with a public display of affection. We were both walking to engineering on separate tasks, and she took my hand. Over the course of the past several dates, we have held hands for five hours, two minutes. Despite being accustomed to the gesture, I experienced new emotions when it took place in front of crew members. Nervousness. Apprehension. Pride. Seventeen crew members witnessed the contact. I was able to catalogue their facial expressions into two primary categories: embarrassment and mirth. I will ask Fira about these reactions (and what she sensed from the crew members as well) on our date this evening._

 _Date 13: Our task this evening was to practice "romantic banter." We were to alternate complimenting each other, which would accomplish many purposes: 1. To become aware of the reasons for our own attractions; 2. To alert the other partner to the objects of our affection; 3. To experience the emotions associated both with complimenting and being complimented. Although I had already compiled a list of over three hundred compliments and similar "banter" phrases, we were only able to converse for two minutes and twelve seconds before Fira was unable to continue due to an unexpected outburst of laughter. Although I did not initially understand the emotional reaction, she explained the reasons behind her feelings—primarily that the practice seemed "illogical" and "ridiculous"—and I too experienced the humor of the situation. Perhaps banter will not be one of the regular rituals of our relationship..._

 _Date 14: Fira moved ahead of schedule. Our discussion of questions 80-89 was pleasant and comfortable, as well as intellectually stimulating. The surprise came when, upon my departure from her quarters, Fira kissed me. The contact lasted 3.2 seconds. When I asked why she had intentionally progressed ahead of schedule, she said she had been looking forward to Date 35 with great apprehension and believed more regular contact would alleviate the tension. I explained that the reasoning for my postponing kissing until a later date was because of the strong emotional reaction she had before. She said she understood, but that my logic was flawed. In a rush of emotion, I told her I loved her, and she kissed me again. Perhaps the schedule could use some modifications..._


	13. Imzadi

**_13\. Imzadi_**

Fira looked at Data's schedule. _Date 15: Questions 90-99. Introduce cuddling._

"Cuddling?" She was so surprised that she said it out loud. Then she started to laugh, the thought of her imzadi saying the word "cuddling" so humorous that she couldn't contain the joy for several seconds. She proceeded to change into casual attire—a relaxed blouse and pants that she hoped would be appropriate for "cuddling."

When Data arrived at her quarters, she raised her eyebrows and said, "Cuddling?"

His eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, and she stepped aside to let him in. "You have had the schedule for several weeks, yet only now you are objecting?"

"I'm not objecting," she said. "I'm just…surprised."

The door closed, and he extended his arms stiffly in front of him. They'd been hugging for several dates now, but she was still trying to teach him about natural posture. Without saying a word, she looked him in the eyes to tell him that he was moving strangely. Already familiar with her nonverbal communication, he relaxed his arms and gently slid them around her waist.

"I am pleased to see you," he said quietly, still gazing into her eyes.

She put her arms around his neck and said, "Much better. I am elated to see you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you trying to 'one-up' my compliment in a demonstration of pride?"

She shook her head, then pressed her face against his chest. "No. My emotional responses are simply growing stronger as our relationship continues."

Unwilling to pull away from the embrace, Fira said, "Computer, play Tchaikovsky's _Swan Lake_." As the oboe solo began, she gently rocked back and forth. It took a moment for Data to realize what she was doing, but then he joined her in her semblance of dancing.

"Does this constitute cuddling?" She asked.

" 'Cuddle: to hold close in one's arms as a way of showing love or affection.' Yes, I believe this is cuddling."

"It's nice," she said. She asked how his work on was going—he had recently met with an alien delegation to trade technological blueprints, and he was modifying them to fit them to Starfleet Regulations—and then asked about his other projects. He always had a dozen going on at once, and even if it had only been a few hours since their last encounter, he had so much information to tell her than she could hardly absorb it all.

She loved it.

Data stopped their rocking and pulled away from her slightly. She looked into his face, and then he leaned down to kiss her. It was soft at first, but then his arms tightened around her waist. His hands pressed against her clothes, pulling her into him so that she fell backward and he held her. Her leg creeped around his. She gasped for air before plunging back in, her teeth grasping at his lips.

He pulled away as quickly as he'd pulled her in. "I am sorry," he said, no hint of the passion he'd just displayed in his voice. "I have moved too quickly. How is your telepathy?"

Fira's mouth was still open as she panted for breath. She hadn't been aware of _anything_ but him for those few seconds, so it took a considerable effort for her to spread out her thoughts to the nearby crewmen.

"I think…I think we're okay," she said. "Ensign Mulak is down the hall, so he might have caught something, but it couldn't have been for more than a second."

"Good," Data said. He stared at her lips, and his own parted. Fira was about to leap onto him when he said, "I do not understand why my self-restraint failed. Perhaps we should refrain from further physical contact."

"I don't want to," Fira said, stepping back into him and putting her hands on his chest. "Data, I want so badly to give in to this. I have never had so little control of my emotions."

"Neither have I," Data whispered. His gaze lingered on her lips for an achingly long moment, but he pulled away again. "Until the crew is no longer at risk, we cannot."

Fira's mind whirred. She'd thought she could stick to Data's plan, that she could adapt her telepathy to encounter her new emotions gradually. But her lust was so strong she could barely stand. She was sure she was projecting her thoughts without even touching Data.

"How can I stop this?" she said. "I know you've been researching telepathy. Is there anything?"

Data's eyebrows shot up. "How did you know? I had meant to keep it secret."

Fira couldn't help but laugh. "There's never been something new you've encountered and not immediately read everything about in the _Enterprise_ 's database. So? A cortical inhibitor, force fields, anything that would…that would let me _touch_ you?"

Data stared at her for a moment, then his head jerked sideways.

"Did you just turn off your emotion chip?" Fira said, taken aback.

"My emotions are clouding my judgment," Data said.

"And mine aren't? Turn it back on this instant."

"I must compensate for your temporary irrationality," Data said. "There are greater factors to consider than our emotions."

"'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?'" she quoted back at him. "No, you signed up for a relationship, you deal with it like the rest of us. Turn your emotion chip on." Her own words startled her, but her Vulcan composure had vaporized.

After a moment of hesitation, Data's head ticked sideways again, and then his face was once again contorted with emotion. In an instant, he pulled her to him once more and kissed her.

"There are ways…to negate…the projectile nature…of…your telepathy," Data breathed in between kisses. "But they are…temporary…untested—"

"Cortical inhibitor?" she panted.

"Would also inhibit your sex drive," he said plainly. "Your…power is too great…to be blocked by ordinary force fields."

"Distance?" she pleaded, and her mouth broke away from his as he kissed along her jawline. "Let's take a shuttle…say it's for a survey and get a few hours alone…"

"I could not," he whispered, and she knew that he would not break Starfleet protocols to fulfill his own desires. _Not yet._ His mouth trailed down her neck, and she finally pushed him away. Or rather, he was too firmly planted to move, so she shoved herself three feet away to prevent herself from losing control again.

"You're right," she said. "We can't." She expected Deanna to contact her telepathically at any moment. Resting her forehead on her hands, she reached out and probed the nearby minds. She had to fight through the haze of her own emotions, and kept getting emotional feedback instead of direct thoughts. The Vulcan down the hall was definitely aware of her now, although the others were still ignorant.

Just like that, Data straightened and spoke as if he were reciting information for the bridge crew. "Doctor Chen Ak'k'nu of the planet Ji has had several breakthroughs in the art of artificially generating the ability to receive and project telepathic information for non-telepaths. In essence, he has created a synthetic telepathic organ. Although the device has not yet been tested in more than a few humanoid trials, it is much simpler to adapt to my positronic net. Since I am already constructed of artificial parts, it was not a difficult task to create the appropriate program."

"Wh-" Fira started, completely taken aback from her emotional depths. "What are you saying? That…that you gave yourself telepathy?"

"Not yet," Data said. "But I have the device prepared and the program created. I had hoped to tell you in a more…romantic manner, but it seemed a suitable course to pull you away from your emotional difficulties."

"Emotional—Data, if anything this is making those difficulties harder," she said, although his words had certainly quelled her overwhelming lust. "Why would you do that to yourself?"

He cocked his head in confusion. "You speak as if it is a punishment, a burden. It is merely an additional sense, with which many species are naturally equipped. It would be a fascinating experiment even if I were not pursuing it for your sake."

"But you want to be human," she said, not knowing how else to argue the point. "Humans aren't telepathic."

"But you are," Data said. "Being human has become a secondary goal to being your lover."

Fira couldn't help it—she gaped. "But—but being human has always been your primary goal. For twenty-six years, that's what you've strived to become."

"And I still shall," Data said. "But you…are my _imzadi_."

This time when Fira kissed him, it wasn't with an uncontrollable rush of physical passion. That remained, beating hot in her lips as they closed around his, but her mind was serene. Silent. A peace she'd only known once before spread through her body as Data hesitantly settled his arms around her waist.

He broke the kiss, only to pull her closer into an embrace. "That was different," he said. "You are controlled. What changed?"

"Remember when I told you about my experience with the Borg?"

It was a testament to Data's programming that he did not flinch away in confusion. "Yes," he murmured into her hair. That moment seemed so long ago now, yet it had been the one that immediately leapt to mind.

"I didn't tell you the whole truth about my recovery."

"You did not recover by meditating on Vulcan poetry?" At this, he did pull away so he could look into her face, but his arms remained wrapped around her.

"That was part of it," Fira said. "Go back in your memory. You said it took me over seven hours to recover. At what stage in my recovery did you enter Sick Bay for your dermal grafts?"

"After you'd been in there already for six hours and fifty-two minutes," Data said. "Are you implying that my presence was related to your recovery?"

"Yes," Fira said. She rested a hand on Data's cheek, warm and smooth as any human's, but so much more beautiful in her eyes. "By focusing on you, I could ignore all of the other thoughts clamoring for my attention. Your complete isolation in a world of chaos brought me out of it." Her eyebrows creased as she searched for a way to say what she meant. "Since I've come to know you so much better, I've realized how different you are. You aren't an absence of consciousness, like the computers I deal with all day. They truly are a void, a black hole where thought and emotion does not exist. At first, I thought you were the same. But now…I _feel_ you, Data, even without some telepathic chip. You're…warm. Soft. Gentle, calming—a being at complete peace even when your emotions change. And I can sense your emotions now. I didn't used to, because they felt so different than those that blaze from the other crew members like beacons. Your emotions exist on another plane—just as strong as any sentient's, but…" She shook her head, at loss for words, so she just smiled. "Beautiful. You're beautiful, Data."

"What am I feeling right now?" he whispered, leaning in with his intense yellow eyes.

She rubbed her thumb along his cheekbone. "Affection. Concern. Curiosity—always curiosity, I've never known you not to feel it." She ran her hand down his torso, entwining her fingers in the shirt over his stomach. "Here—heat, desire."

"But you can't tell what I'm thinking?"  
She shook her head. "I'm not sure 'thinking' is even the right word for what goes on in that beautiful positronic net."

He raised his eyebrows. "Neither am I. Then you do not wish me to install the telepathic chip?"

"To what end?" she shrugged. "I love you as you are."

"So that I might sympathize with you," he said. "Experience this extra sense as you do. Understand you better. Perhaps I might even provide a sense of stability within our thoughts—an anchor for you to hold on to when your own mind becomes crowded."

"You already stabilize me," she said.

"But I also _de_ -stabilize you."

She smiled, and another surge of heat pulsed through her abdomen. She wanted to wrap herself around him, to leave words to the wayside-to hell with whatever thoughts she broadcasted to the crew. But she didn't. "My mental slip with you was the first time I've had a problem with projecting thoughts, rather than receiving them. I wasn't for one moment distracted by the usual bombardment of nearby thoughts. My head was full of only you." She bit her lip, then pulled away from Data. "You've been running a secret project in the hopes of improving our relationship. It's only fair to tell you that I've done the same."

Data's eyebrows shot up. "What might you do to improve our relationship? Surely you are not considering alterations to the telepathic center of your brain. I spoke with Counselor Troi on the subject, and she said—"

Fira leaned forward and pecked a kiss on Data's lips to silence him, then said, "No. I was more concerned with…with the inequality of our lifespans."

She felt the palpable wave of surprise from him this time, searing against her ribcage like a minor electric shock. "I had considered that as well," he said, "but it hardly seemed to take precedence over more immediate concerns."

"I don't think we have the leisure of thinking in terms of 'immediate' or 'long-term' concerns," she said. A knot formed in her stomach as she said, "All immediate concerns will affect the long-term, and vice versa. I have no intention of letting short-sightedness inhibit the success or our relationship."

"Then what have you been working on?" he said. "Studies on improving the longevity of natural lifespans have been taken up amongst many species, but I have never heard of one succeeding without significant downfalls."

Fira moved to the computer console at the other end of her quarters. "Computer, activate Program Akané-Companion." A single holographic figure appeared next to the console. She was, pore for pore, an identical representation of Fira.

Data cocked his head. "Why did you create a holographic representation of yourself?"

"She is going to be my long-term project," Fira said, her breath coming out through constricted lungs. "Life-long, if that becomes the case."

"I don't understand."

Fira stepped in front of Data then, drawing his eyes to hers. "You don't wish to form such a close relationship with someone whom you will eventually lose."

His eyebrows creased. "Fira, I have expressed my willingness to—"

She placed a hand on his face to stop him. "I know. And I love you all the more for it. But this is my way of showing my love to you. I am going to completely recreate myself in this hologram. As I learn more about myself, so will she learn about herself. I will even program her to mimic age. She will be my living log. Everything I experience, I will download into her programming. She will, essentially, become a perfect copy of me." Fira stroked her thumb along Data's cheek. "One that can live as long as you."

Data's eyes moved from hers to the hologram's, his face a mixture of emotions that she felt rush into her mind like freezing and boiling water at once. "I am pleased that you would invest such a great deal of time and effort into doing something that only benefits me," he began, "and I am intrigued by the proposal. But I am troubled at the thought that you, or any person, might be replaced by a collection of computer code." He tilted his head and looked back at her. "Such an endeavor would require such a vast amount of coding that I do not know that one hologram could endure the programming. It would require an independent computer system; the _Enterprise_ computer could not hold the amount of data required while still maintaining normal functions. Besides that, it would be limited to areas which contain holographic projectors; we do not yet have the capability to live amongst holograms entirely. I foresee only a twenty-one percent possibility that, even with the required equipment, this hologram could function as you propose."

"I know," Fira said, and pain lanced through her sternum. "But if it's what it takes for us to be together…"

Data took both of her hands and clasped them against his chest. "I would stay with you past the outer rim of the universe." He leaned his forehead against the top of her head. "Your thought and care in this matter is of the utmost significance to me, and I will not take it lightly. Allow me time to consider it more fully?"

Fira slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. "Of course." She closed her eyes. "You put as much thought into the development of that telepathic chip, and I quickly disregarded it. I shall continue to contemplate that as well."

He glanced once more at the hologram, then looked back to the real Fira. "Computer, deactivate Program Akané-Companion." With a quiet hiss, the hologram disappeared.

They stood in quiet contemplation for several moments more, foreheads pressed together as a world of unspoken thought passed between them.

"Marriage is a custom practiced almost universally amongst humanoid species."

Fira pulled back so she could look into Data's face. "What?"

Data's mouth quirked up at the corner. "Your expression is most amusing. You did not expect me to discuss the topic?"

"I suppose not," she said, then her own mouth quirked up at the corner. "It wasn't on the schedule."

He barked out a laugh—too harsh and artificial for the situation, but all the more endearing to Fira because of it. "For someone who was raised on Vulcan, you are not very good at keeping to schedules," he said.

"No, I suppose I'm not," she said. "I think I become more Betazoid every day that I'm with you."

"We have already gone well past the content of Date 35," he said. "Perhaps I underestimated the effect of emotional eagerness on both our parts. It is apparent to me that we are both dedicated to pursuing this relationship for the long term. Do you agree with that assumption?"

"I do."

"Then you agree that a public and legal representation of that dedication would be an appropriate step in the continuation of that relationship?"

Fira bit her lip, frothy bubbles welling up in her torso as she restrained a smile. "Are you asking me to marry you?"  
Data opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. "Is my timing inappropriate? I have not yet discussed the matter with my peers as I had intended to. I merely sought to learn if you were amiable to the idea." He frowned. "I have several plans for a proposal in mind, but I hadn't intended to enact any of them until after Date 42—"

"Data," Fira said, smiling in earnest as she put a hand on his chest. "You're nervous. _Really_ nervous. There's no need."

"Then you are amiable to the notion of marriage?"  
"I am."

Data opened and closed his mouth once more. "If you are amiable, is there any reason I should _not_ propose?"

She could barely breathe. "I suppose not."

"Would you prefer a human, Vulcan, or Betazoid proposal?"  
"A Data proposal would be suitable," she said, and he raised his eyebrows.

He got down on one knee, taking both her hands in his. He leaned forward and whispered, as if he was speaking an aside on stage, "This is a traditionally human posture for proposals, and I thought it appropriate because it is a symbol of respect and adoration." Then, in a louder voice, he said, "Fira Akané. You are uniquely qualified to be my mate and partner in all regards. You stimulate me intellectually, emotionally, and physically. You are perfect, especially in your imperfections. I have never felt more human than when I am with you. I do not wish to cease in our romantic relationship. Will you pursue a life-long relationship with me?"

Fira bent down and kissed Data, long and hard. She pulled away and whispered, "Your proposal is graciously accepted." She kissed him again, and Data stood even as he kept his mouth pressed to hers.

Then Fira broke the kiss with a barking laugh.

"What is so humorous?" Data asked.

"Sorry," she said, covering her mouth. "I was just imagining us having a Betazoid wedding."

"Ah," he said, and then he smiled. "We would both be naked."

"It would be pleasant enough for me," she said, "But I don't think I'd like to see Picard's expression."

Data's face broadened in a comical smile, and he released another blast of artificial laughter. Fira joined in, letting down every barrier that told her joy was not something she could experience. It flooded her with warmth, and not for one moment did she get distracted by the thoughts of the crew.

"I was unable to express the full extent of my research before, since my mouth was otherwise engaged," Data said, then looked askance with a small smile. "There may be ways to prevent your telepathy from reaching others, but they are largely untested and would require considerable resources. These resources might not have been granted to a single individual. However, I have already drafted a proposal for the Captain's approval. Upon the occasion of our nuptials, we will be granted shared quarters. I have several ideas for modifying these quarters, including enhanced bulkheads and force fields used by the Chirr to inhibit telepathic abilities. Since the modifications would serve the interests of two crewmembers, they might be looked upon more favorably by the Captain. I am certain we could enlist the Counselor's assistance to see that these modifications are approved."

"So there _are_ ways for us to…engage in physical activity without my telepathic abilities reaching the crew."

"It is quite likely," Data said. "But they might be unavailable to us if there was no guarantee that they would be used for a long-term investment."

"You _knew_ I was going to say yes to your proposal."

"It would be illogical not to," he countered, then grinned widely at his own joke.

"I love you," she whispered. "Imzadi."

Data kissed her, then whispered against her lips, "And I you…imzadi."


End file.
